Not Until the Break of Day
by AmberTheCritic
Summary: Day, Sans, and Papyrus find themselves in the Unknown- separated. Alone. None know how they got there, or even where it is they are. The three must find each other again and figure out how to return home... if they can. (OC in place of Frisk, follows events of "A New Day" and "Days in the Sun").
1. Two's Company, Three's a Crowd

_**For anyone who's confused or curious, this comes after my giant Undertale story (Undertale: A New Day) and after chapter four of my significantly less giant story (Days in the Sun). It *might* be good to have those as a background, but since it's long as frick and I don't want to uncooly assign a novel of homework to y'all, just understand that Day is basically Frisk but with a personality, and following a pacifist route, she's freed the monsters from the underground. So now shenanigans can ensue elsewhere!**_

 _ **(There might be a few little references back to A New Day and/or Days in the Sun, but hopefully you can still enjoy this story without that prior knowledge. Hope you enjoy!)**_

* * *

Something scratched Day's cheek slightly. Not enough to hurt, but sudden enough to make her jolt back in surprise— she sat up quickly.

Leaves, muddy and dead, fell away at her jostling and joined the pile beneath her. The texture made her shudder in disgust, so she stood and wiped her hands off on the fabric of her skirt— before she stopped herself.

The purple material was already stained with mud and half soaked, and checking her shirt, she found it in much the same state.

 _Oh no…_ She cringed in regret, _Toriel's not going to like this._

It was like a light clicked on in her mind— Day spun around where she stood.

"Papyrus!" she called out, "Papyrus? Sans?"

…

"Hello?"

Instead of her friends, Day was met with the sight of a dark, gloomy forest. The dirt, the rocks, and even the trees were so muted and dull that they appeared grey. A white fog lingered in patches low to the ground, illuminated by the eerie blue light of the moon overhead, only visible through sparse gaps in the trees' grey leaves.

 _Is this… some part of Mt. Ebott?_ she wondered, but the thought fell flat, _No, it can't be. The trees don't look right._

 _… Why would I be on Mt. Ebott, anyway?_

She struggled to remember anything before waking up, but only drew blanks.

Day huffed, squeezing her eyes shut as if it would help.

 _We were at home,_ she reasoned, _We were home, and then we left to go to…_

 _… to go to…_

 _…_

 _… drat._

Day opened her eyes and scanned the area again, hopelessness beginning to seep in.

 _This can't be Mt. Ebott,_ she repeated, _So I'm somewhere else. Somewhere I've never been before… and I'm alone._

 _At night._

 _In a dark and scary forest._

 _… but at least there aren't any talking flowers, yet._

It made her smile the tiniest bit, but only for a second.

She scoured her pockets in a last-ditch effort for reassurance, only to find them empty— she was sure she'd brought her phone, but…

Day wrapped her arms around her middle, shaking from both nerves and cold; a breeze had picked up, making the wet fabric of her clothes all the more apparent.

 _It's okay,_ she tried to reassure herself, _It'll be okay. Someone will know I'm missing, so they'll be looking for me… so… maybe I should just stay here._

Leaves rustled overhead, disturbed by the wind. Smaller branches creaked in protest, creating stilted and jittering silhouettes all around her.

She was starting to like her plan of action a lot less.

The longer she waited, the more she noticed— how the trees cast inky shadows on the ground, like tall figures looming over her. Clicks and hums of insects would sound at random intervals, or skitters of small and unseen forest creatures.

Day shuffled in place, still shaking.

 _They're just sounds. Sounds can't hurt you. Just the wind and bugs and leaves and… and squirrels and—_

Something like a series of short yowls pierced the night, making her jump.

And then suddenly, she was running. Not _to_ anything in particular, just _away._ Very quickly away.

There was no distinct path, just rugged and untamed forest, forcing Day to keep her eyes devoutly to the already hard to see ground. Rocks, branches, tree roots, and brush all threatened to trip and swallow her up— she stumbled many times, but never quite fell.

Day forced herself to halt, out of breath, eyes darting from side the side. The forest looked no different than before— was she only getting herself more lost?

She held herself up against a thick tree, listening intently for the previous sound.

Instead, she heard nothing.

 _Utterly_ nothing.

The forest had gone silent.

Her breath hitched, knowing that it couldn't mean anything good.

 _Crunch… crunch…_

Footsteps.

They came from behind her. Barely managing to withhold a squeak of fear, Day hurriedly rounded the tree she stood beside, flattening herself against the trunk. She tried to listen for more footsteps, but the hammer of her heart drowned out everything else.

 _Maybe it's Sans or Papyrus— maybe they found me._

 _But— but they would have called out for me. If whoever it is is trying to stay quiet, then…_

She held her breath, straining to hear.

 _…_

 _… crunch crunch… crunch crunch… crunch…_

It was coming closer. Deliberately slow.

Tears stung at her eyes, unbidden, but Day didn't dare to wipe them away.

 _Crunch…_

 _…_

 _…_

For several seconds, no further sound came. A minute passed, and still, all was silent.

Relief began to trickle back, but Day remained frozen, knowing it was unlikely that the pursuer had just disappeared.

… Still.

With painstaking care, Day turned her head, and slowly began to lean to one side, to peek around the trunk of the tree.

 _THUNK!_

Something heavy whizzed overhead and embedded itself into the tree, making it shudder. Not a moment later, Day was blinded by a bright yellow light.

She screamed and fell backwards, hard, onto her back. Instinctively, her head whipped around to size up her attacker.

A girl, a young teenager at most, blinked back at her with wide eyes. She had a little red circle cape around her shoulders, with brown hair tucked inside the hood. The light came from an old lantern, silver and squarish, she held level with her eyes.

"… Oh. You aren't a deer."

Day's eyes drifted in between the girl and the axe stuck in the tree. The blade had struck only a few inches above where her head would have been.

The girl lowered the lantern and extended her free hand towards Day.

"I'm sorry— you ran off without yelling or screaming, so I thought you were some sort of forest animal."

 _And so you tried to cut my head off?!_

Day didn't voice the question; she wasn't alone anymore, at least.

She allowed herself to be helped up, only to find herself scrutinized once again.

"What funny shoes," the girl commented, squinting at her sneakers and pink laces.

Heat rose to her cheeks, and Day frowned at the ground without contesting.

The girl seemed to notice this, and she shook her head.

"I'm not making a good first impression, now am I?"

"Um."

Her hand was extended again, "I'm Anna."

Politely, Day accepted the handshake, "I'm Day."

"Oh really?" She held out the lantern, "Hold this for me?"

She obliged, surprised by the weight of the thing.

Anna grabbed the axe by its handle, and with a boot against the tree trunk, began to tug.

"Day, why were you running through the forest by yourself, anyway?" she asked, "You know it's a bad idea to venture off the path: stay to the center of the path, avoid the forest's hidden wrath."

Day blinked at the odd rhyme, but didn't comment.

"I… I woke up there," she answered.

"What do you mean?"

"I just… I woke up in the middle of the forest," she repeated, "I don't know how I got here."

Anna tilted her head to one side, curious.

"That's… different." She gave the axe another jerk, and it came loose in full, "Where were you before this?"

 _Isn't that the question?_

"I was at home," she replied, "And I left with Sans and Papyrus, but…" Day glanced pensively at the forest around them, trailing off.

The yowling sound returned, making Day jump.

Anna laughed, "It's just a barred owl, silly."

"What?"

"A barred owl. That sound."

"How… how do you know?"

"The sound it makes— it sounds like "Who cooks for you?" Only barred owls make that distinct call."

Day gave her a funny look.

"Here, look." Anna put down the axe, cupped her hands around her mouth, and hooted the words "Who cooks for you— who cooks for you-all?"

Sure enough, she was greeted by the same pattern of hooting. She gave Day a wide grin, which made her laugh.

"See? There's nothing to be scared of."

Anna's face changed a bit, and she regarded Day with sympathy.

"Though… you really shouldn't be out here by yourself. Especially at night." She picked up her axe, keeping the blade low and facing away from Day, "Go out in pairs, never alone, 'lest next you're named is by headstone."

That didn't help in the slightest; Day's stomach twisted into knots, and the lantern trembled noticeably in her grasp.

Anna made a low sound of thought.

"… Maybe you should come with me," she suggested, "It's easier to come up with a solid plan when there's a roof over your head. Wouldn't you say?"

Day nodded quickly, eager for the company.

Anna nodded in return, and offered another smile, "Come on, then. You light the way."

She hurried to join Anna's side, and the two journeyed through the forest.

"Don't worry," Anna commented, "So long as you've a friend and light, you'll walk unfettered through the night."

* * *

"HELLO?! IS ANYBODY THERE?!"

Papyrus waited hopefully for a response, but like the 74 other times, got none.

He frowned thoughtfully, crossing his arms.

"Well! This is… rather strange!" he mused, "I was sure I wasn't alone just a few minutes ago!"

Like before, Papyrus took out his phone and tried fruitlessly to turn it on. The screen remained black, unresponsive.

"Hm! Well, I guess that settles it!" He pocked the device, adjusted the straps of the backpack he wore hoisted over his shoulders, then declared, "I'll have to find them the old-fashioned way: through blind searching!"

With that, Papyrus strolled forward in no particular direction and began to traverse the gloomy forest.

He peered curiously up at the trees, and the mist, and the moon in the sky— faint as it was, the light still made him squint instinctively.

"This is going to take some getting used to!" he said to no one in particular, "But at least it is not completely dark! It's fortunate that on the surface, day or night, there is always a blinding light in the sky to prevent you from getting lost!" He blinked, "Even if you are lost already!"

Papyrus walked on for several more minutes, but the forest around him appeared unchanged. If anything, it was getting darker.

"Hm…" He frowned briefly, "I hope they are not afraid, given that I am not there to protect them…"

But this uncertainty passed quickly, "Nonsense! Sans isn't afraid of anything! And even if Day always seems a tiny bit afraid, she's done brave things while being scared! They'll be perfectly okay!"

He paused.

"Though they would be even _better_ if I were to find them quickly."

"Who are you talking to?"

Papyrus searched for the voice, caught off guard.

"Hello?"

Leaves rustled to his left.

"I said who are you talking to?"

It was a girl's voice— one he knew.

"Day?"

"What?"

"Day, is that you?"

"No?"

The rustling grew louder, and out of the darkness, a small figure emerged. Her dark brown hair was messy and long, appearing black against her blue-violet poncho. It was flecked with leaves, twigs, and other adornments from the forest floor.

Papyrus' brow furrowed, very confused.

"You aren't Day."

Upon closer inspection, his confusion doubled.

"But you look just like her! Only… not at all like her! But you have her voice!"

The child crinkled her nose, matching his expression.

"I thought I had _my_ voice?"

"Well you do! But it's— I mean, while it may be _yours,_ it is also—"

He stopped himself, not sure where this was going.

"… It's very strange."

The girl cocked her head, "It's not the only strange thing here."

"Oh?" Papyrus turned around to spot whatever she could be referring to, "What other strange thing do you see?"

She couldn't help but giggle, a hand covering her mouth, " _You,_ silly!"

He practically gasped, baffled at the accusation, _"Me?"_

The child nodded, "You're a skeleton!"

"Well, that is not a very strange thing at all!" he argued, "If anything, it is far stranger to find a human child in the middle of a dark forest, speaking with a voice you know but not being the person that you know it belongs to!"

She only shook her head, at a loss.

"Who's Day, though?"

"Oh! She's my human friend— or, since we live together now, I consider her my new human sister!" At the thought, Papyrus surveyed the dark forest again, "… Though, I don't _quite_ know where she is, right at this very moment. Or my brother Sans!"

"Is he human too?"

"Oh no! Sans is a skeleton! He's my _real_ brother, while Day is only my _kind of sort of_ sister! It's all very complicated!"

The child nodded in agreement.

"What about you? Do you have any brothers or sisters— human or skeleton?"

Her face lit up, and she nodded more enthusiastically.

"Yeah! I have a sister!"

"Wowie! What's her name?"

The girl's face fell.

"… Um. I don't… really… actually know."

Papyrus blinked.

"You don't know your sister's name?"

"Nuh-uh."

"… That seems like a thing you should probably know about a sister."

"I used to know it," she reasoned, tugging at a bundle of her hair, "But… I think I forgot it." She glanced around, as if searching for the memory, "I was playing with her one day, and then… I fell asleep, I think? And I woke up here, for some reason."

Her attention returned to Papyrus, "So. I'm trying to find her now."

Papyrus felt his heart ache at the expression on her face; she was lost. And alone.

Just like him.

And that gave him a _brilliant_ idea.

"Aha!" he exclaimed, "Never fear! I know how we can both find our lost siblings!"

She perked up, "You do? How?"

"We can search for them together! Two pairs of eyes are better than one, after all! Even if one of the pairs is not eyes, but rather eye-sockets!" He grinned his most friendly smile, "What do you say?"

There wasn't a trace of hesitation in the girl's reply; her eyes twinkled, like she'd been waiting for the invitation her whole life.

"Okay!"

She ran to his side, no more than a third his height, and beamed up at him with joy.

"I didn't want to have to look for her by myself, anyway!" she added, "At least you'll be able to scare away scary things!"

"Nyeheh!" Papyrus laughed, "I will do my very best! Though I don't know how scary I can be— I always make it a goal to be charming and welcoming, above all else!"

The child giggled, humoring him.

"Do you know the way to go?" Papyrus asked her, "To start searching?"

"Nope!" She skipped forward, "Let's go this way first, okay?"

"It's as good a direction as any other!" He bounded after her, "By the way, I should introduce myself: I am the Great Papyrus! I completely forgot to ask you what your name was, since I know you're not Day, now!"

"Papyrus? That's a funny name," she commented, "But I like it! My name's fun to say too!"

"Really? What is it?"

"Stella!"

* * *

Anna gave Day's hand a slight tug, "It's this way. Just a minute more."

Day nodded, holding the lantern before her. The trees had begun to thin some time ago, a few no more than stumps. Along with that, the ground flattened and sported less rocks, making their trek less difficult.

Soon, the trees gave way entirely, and the soil of the earth was replaced by short, green grass. In the center of the clearing, Day spotted a small wooden cabin. It shared the space with what seemed to be a large garden, all surrounded by a stout stone fence. Smoke drifted leisurely up from the cabin's stone chimney, hazy grey against the dark sky.

"Come on now," Anna urged her forward, "No use staying out here in the dark, is there?"

The girls approached the house and ascended a few wooden steps up the porch.

Anna set down her axe and raised a hand to knock on the door—

— only for it to swing open before she had even touched it.

A middle-aged man, looking on the verge of panic, met them on the other side of the door.

"Anna!" he practically stammered, "Where have you— I was just about to come looking for you— you know you shouldn't be—"

"I lost track of time," she interrupted calmly, "I'm alright, father."

The man frowned, "You really shouldn't be—"

It was then he noticed Day, and was once again stopped in his tracks.

She shrunk slightly, her hand tightening around Anna's.

"… Anna. Who…?"

"She says her name's Day." Anna released her hand, choosing instead to give her head a gentle, yet slightly patronizing, pat on the head, "I found her."

"Found her where?"

"In the woods."

His gaze turned suspicious, "Alone?"

"Yep!" Anna was either oblivious to or unconcerned by his change in tone, "I didn't want her to wind up eaten alive by a barred owl, so I brought her along!"

The man's frown didn't lift at the joke, and he eyed Day with caution.

"… Where did you come from?" he questioned, measuring his words, "What are you doing here?"

Day's mouth went dry, and she could only shake her head in trepidation.

"I— um." She tried, "I don't— I don't know. Um, sir. I was— I woke up, and…"

She shook her head again, knowing the explanation was poor at best, "Sorry."

His demeanor seemed to soften, just slightly, and he sighed. The man turned up his gaze to look past the girls, out into the dark forest.

"… Well. You'd… better bring her inside," he told Anna, in a gruff manner that signaled defeated, "No sense in condemning her to wander these woods. Alone." He disappeared inside the house.

Anna just grinned down at Day.

"Come on now. I'll put the kettle on and brew some tea— I hope you like tea!"

Day nodded meekly, but said nothing. She followed Anna inside, stopping only to peer back at the forest as the man had done. Still no sign of Sans or Papyrus. No sign of anyone at all.

She sighed, and shut the door behind her.

* * *

"What other herbs can you think of?" Anna challenged, crossing her arms in preparation.

Day pondered, balancing a teacup on her knee.

"How about… dandelions?"

Anna snapped, "That one's easy!" She began to recite: "Dandelion, dandelion, helps quite well with the stomach and liver and things that swell." After which she explained, "Dandelion tea helps with digestion and inflammation. And people call them weeds— ha!"

Day nodded, impressed.

"Name another one!"

"Um…" She wracked her brain for more, "… Ooh. I like chamomile."

Anna stroked her chin dramatically, "Hmmm… that's a tricky one…"

It only took a few seconds of pondering for her to snap her fingers, smile gleaming.

"Chamomile buds are best picked by the time the sun has risen high; for then they will be quite long dry."

Day smiled back, "That was fast."

Anna's face glowed with pride, "You have to know a lot to survive in the wilderness— and rhyming's the best way to do it."

Day nodded politely, taking the chance to peer back towards Anna's father, the Woodsman. He sat at a desk by the window, eyes fixed outside. He'd hardly spoken since Day entered the house.

Probably sensing her gaze, the Woodsman's eyes flicked over to her suddenly, and she quickly turned away.

"You didn't say where you were from."

Day returned her gaze, meekly.

"I'm from… Maine?"

The Woodsman made a sound of thought, apparently recognizing the name.

"Hm."

When he made no further attempt at questioning, Day offered one of her own.

"Where am I?"

Behind her, Anna's teacup clinked poignantly as it was set down. The room was silent except for the creaking of the wooden cabin under the night breeze.

The Woodsman turned in his chair to face her, his face grim.

"The Unknown."

"… I'm… sorry?"

"This place," he repeated, "We call it the Unknown."

Silence hung for a moment, only adding to the gravity of his statement.

"How did I get here?"

The Woodsman sighed heavily.

"I don't know."

"How did you get here?"

"I don't know that, either."

This wasn't exactly answering any of the questions she had in mind, making her frown.

"Well… what is the Unknown? I mean, what's here?"

The Woodsman shook his head, "The woods. There's nothing but the woods, out there."

"That's not true," Anna said, "You'll find a few towns here and there."

"There are other people here, too?"

"Yes." The Woodsman's voice was sharp and dark, "Among other things."

"But nothing too dangerous," Anna added, giving her father an almost stern look, "Right, father?"

His attention lingered on her for a second before drifting back to the window.

"I should hope not." He paused, "Not anymore."

 _That sounds… ominous._

Day glanced down at her teacup, swirling the remaining liquid inside.

"I was…" She hesitated, seeing as her voice broke the uneasy silence, "… I don't think I came here by myself."

It wasn't met with a reply, so she clarified.

"I think I was with two of my friends. I can't… I can't remember it exactly, for some reason…" She reached up to rub one of her temples, struggling to draw it out again, "But… they wouldn't have let me go off by myself, to… wherever this is. However I got here." Day paused, "I don't think they would."

Anna made a sound of sympathy, and gave Day's hair a friendly tousle.

"Of course they wouldn't," she assured, " _Good_ friends would never leave behind such a young girl— not all alone in the woods."

Day's cheeks flushed, "I'm—"

She bit her tongue to repress the rest of the rebuttal: _I'm not **that** young!_

"If they did follow you here," the Woodsman abruptly said, sounding a bit stilted, "There's… well, there's not much left in the woods— around here, anymore— to cause great harm to… to anyone who should come across it." There was a bit of an awkward pause before he added, "That's not to say there's not an inher—not a likely danger for those who… who choose to be out, at night. Out there."

It sounded like an attempt at reassurance, but it hardly helped.

He seemed to know this, and sighed quietly.

"There's no sense in sendi— in going out again, tonight. We'll… you can stay here." The Woodsman looked at her pointedly, "For tonight. Then, I will do… what I can to help you find your way home."

Day wasn't sure how much he himself would be able to help her, given just how little he himself knew about the woods… but she appreciated the offer, nonetheless.

She nodded, "Thank you."

The Woodsman just turned back to the window, silently watching.

Anna got up from her chair quickly, "Come on, Day. You can sleep with me— I'll show you the beds!" She reached over and took her by the hand, pulling her to her feet. Day made a brief noise of surprise, but allowed herself to be led up a flight of wooden stairs.

The Woodsman's eyes never left the edge of the dark forest, scrutinizing it for any sign of movement.

"He's gone," he muttered to himself shortly, "Dead and buried. Long gone."

… still. He watched.

* * *

A stray rock nearly made Sans trip. He kicked at it, heard it clatter dully against the dirt a couple feet away.

Still no one.

He huffed a breath, having long passed the point of utter, paralyzing panic. He currently lingered somewhere in the hazy, grey, indifferent zone of everything but the emergency services of his brain.

 _Shit._

Again, he devoted his attention to remembering— there had to be _something_ he was missing, here.

 _We were on Mt. Ebott,_ he recalled methodically, _It was… Pap and the kid, and..._

 _… something about rain… and…_

He scowled, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets.

 _… arguing over something. Stupid._

The wind picked up for a second, making his shoulders rise. His jacket shielded most of the chill.

His phone was dead; he'd checked. He couldn't teleport anywhere recognizable; he'd checked that too. Numerous times.

Nothing. No one.

 _Could be some sort of freaky dream._

The explanation didn't sit right with him, as much as he would've preferred it.

 _'s way too real. Even the goddamned nightmares don't get this real._

 _Then what the hell is this?!_

"Ugh."

This wasn't solving anything. Just wasting time.

 _Best-case scenario, I'm here by myself. And Pap and the kid aren't freaking out in the dark somewhere._

 _Yeah. And since when has anything ever been the best-case scenario, huh?_

He rubbed his sockets with the backs of his hands, letting out another long, stress-filled exhale.

 _Just… keep walking, alright? Woods can't go on forever._

The fog had begun to thicken considerably, concealing patches of the earth here and there. The trees were black, sky was black, dirt was grey brown, fog was grey.

"Welcoming, I'll give it that," he muttered, "Real…"

He didn't even bother to finish the pun aloud— no point, without an audience.

 _… Mist-erious._

He managed a smirk at the very least.

His foot snagged unexpectedly, and he pitched forward to gain a deeper familiarity with the earth.

 _"Sonofa—"_

 _Thud._

After a few seconds of debating the benefits of just staying face-down on the ground, Sans sat up and glared daggers at the area he'd tripped over.

There was a rock.

A large, flat rock. In the middle of a bare patch of dirt.

He couldn't find any sort of markings on it, but judging by the fact that it was the only stone of its kind in the area, and it didn't seem embedded in the dirt but rather set on top…

 _… That's interesting._

Raising a hand, both it and the rock were engulfed in a blue glow. The rock inched off the ground, and Sans floated it to the side without concern. The dirt beneath was flattened, but seemed less compacted than the rest.

He knew what that meant.

Sans rolled up his sleeves, and started to dig.

Two feet down, still nothing. But he'd come too far to quit now.

The sleeves of his jacket kept falling down and impeding his progress, so he removed it in frustration, casting it aside.

Three feet. Three and a half.

Then, a clink.

Sans stopped in surprise, and quickly freed the metallic object.

It was… a lantern?

"The hell?"

He hoisted himself out of the empty hole he'd dug, squinting in the slight light the moon had to offer.

The thing was old and dirty, either made of bronze or weathered enough to rust through in its entirety. Round and ornate, Sans was equal parts confused and disappointed.

 _Yeah, well what did you expect to find?_

… Though, it was dark.

Sans went to open the lantern's cover, but hesitated.

 _… Shit, can I still do fire magic?_

It had been a long time. Not like he could forget it entirely though, right?

He opened the lantern, held a finger up to the wick, and concentrated.

…

…

 _Come on, dude. Just a spark. You can do that, at least._

…

 _You're kidding me— come **on**! Quit screwing around and just—_

A flash of white made him jerk his hand back, but sure enough, a small blue-white flame grew around the wick.

"… Huh." Sans closed the lantern's cover and stood, "Guess… I've got light, now."

The wind picked up again, stronger than before. It swept in another wave of fog, taller and thicker than the kind that already clouded the area.

Something felt…

… wrong.

 _Think it might be time to beat it,_ he decided, and reached down for his jacket—

— only to find it missing.

He swept the lantern's light across the immediate area, but it revealed nothing.

"… Oh that ain't good."

Suddenly, a chill went up his spine. He didn't think it was cause purely by the wind, which was now blowing unabated.

Sans controlled his breathing, listening carefully.

…

One step at a time, he turned around, scanning the trees. Just dark, spindly silhouettes against the moon, standing guard on all sides.

…

…

He exhaled, low and slow.

 _Maybe…_

 _… just being paranoid._

…

…

It was nothing.

Sans relaxed a bit, lowering the lantern.

It was tugged, nearly slipping from his grasp.

His hand locked around the handle, and he ripped it backwards in a single motion, putting several feet between he and the silent stalker. He raised the lantern to illuminate—

Sans stiffened, visibly.

It was like a tree had sprouted in the place he once stood, spindly and jagged. A circular head adorned with branches like twisted antlers. Long, impossibly thin arms and legs.

And the eyes.

Those… _eyes._

It was the only part of the creature not utterly black. They shone a bright, blinding white. Two full circles. Unshifting.

 _… shit._

The two faced each other without a word, deathly still.

Until it spoke.

"Give me my lantern."

Sans flinched at the voice— low, deliberate in its articulation, and directed at him like a pointed curse.

He was _not_ a fan of that voice.

"… You know," he finally replied, doing his best to sound casual, "I think I'm gonna have to pass on this one, thanks."

Its head tilted, emphasized even more by the drastic shift in the positions of those eyes…

… Sans felt like he shouldn't have been looking at them. They made him feel… cornered.

"And why is that?"

It wasn't a threat; it was an inquiry. Curious. Baiting.

 _Stop talking to him. It's what he wants._

"Cause you tried getting it by yankin' it out of my hand." He faked a smirk, "Not real good as a first impression, y'know? Couldda just asked nicely."

The thing chuckled, the sound coming deep from within his throat.

"I was only trying to help…"

"You couldda helped me by digging," Sans retorted, all the while trying to plan out his best route of escape, "Besides… I'm kinda liking this little piece of junk. Does its job. And I figure since I'm the one who did all the work digging it up… I'm gonna hold onto it. Seems fair to me."

He was met with a sigh; it was tinged with regret.

"I see." The head righted itself, and Sans felt the eyes bore into him head-on, "I wanted simply to… relieve you of the burden that the lantern brings. As one who knows the true extent of its significance…"

"Yeah? Huh… don't find too many of the benevolent sort, nowadays…" Sans initially planned to stop at the comment, but he couldn't quite contain the question, "And what do you mean "burden"?"

The thing seemed to loom a little taller, and stretched out a spindly hand.

"Look closely at the flame," he instructed, "Tell me what it is you see."

Sans hesitated, but curiosity forced his hand; he glanced down for a moment, intending to keep one good eye on the speaker. Instead, his attention became fully devoted to the flame within the lantern.

It flickered from side to side, seeming to dance atop the shape morphed and shifted slowly... but it almost resembled…

"… a kid?"

"Yes," the thing confirmed, sounding like a proud mentor, "A child. A young girl. Her soul bound to the lantern and the flame within."

Sans almost dropped the lantern, but just managed to keep his grip.

 _What the **hell** is this thing?!_

"So you do understand," he continued evenly, "The implications of what you hold."

Sans tore his eyes from the flame, locking them on the dark speaker.

"… Guessing you had something to do with this."

He received no response, but it answered his question well enough.

"I only wish to keep her alive," the thing eventually said, placing a hand on his chest in apparent reverence, "It is no easy task, ensuring the flame remains lit… And so, I have come to reassume my burden, rather than passing it off to another."

He held out his hand in invitation.

"The lantern."

Sans returned his eyes to the flame.

 _I didn't sign up for this… whatever this whole thing is. It's not my problem._

The flickering flame continued to dance and twirl, like a child in bliss.

Something stirred in his chest, rendering him immobile.

 _I don't even know this kid. It's— it's not my problem._

"Give me the lantern."

…

Sans took a step back, holding the lantern close at his side.

"No."

The dark shape flickered for a moment, as if subjected to a massive twitch.

"What?"

It was sharp, and a little less controlled than everything else he'd said. That alone gave Sans a boost of confidence.

"I said no," he repeated, a hint of taunting in his voice, "I'm thinking you don't just want this cause it's some sort of family heirloom. It means something to you, doesn't it?"

…

"So… I got an idea." Sans raised the lantern a bit, just enough to tease, "You want this lantern. And I got something I want."

The dark head tilted once again, eyes gleaming.

"Are you proposing a deal?"

"Maybe I am."

The dark thing stared… then, it chuckled once again. The sound was a macabre imitation of mirth.

"Go on."

* * *

Day's eyes flew open, but she remained frozen in bed.

It was pitch black.

 _Am I back?_

She felt the bed shift to her right, accompanied by a sleepy groan. Day squinted in the dark, alarmed by the sound.

Anna's face was half obscured by her hair. Locks of it draped over into her opened mouth.

 _Not back. Still here. Wherever here is._

Day rolled onto her back, staring up at the wooden ceiling. The wind still made the cabin creak, and she could faintly make out the quiet breathing of both Anna and the Woodsman.

She repressed a sigh, letting her eyes slide shut.

…

Only for them to fly open again. Day sat up suddenly.

A voice.

She heard it.

Day scanned the room, but already knew she wouldn't find anything— the voice was heavily muted. It was coming from somewhere else.

Outside.

She lowered her feet to the floor, easing her weight down slowly to avoid the squeak of the wood paneling. Once she was standing, she ensured the action went unnoticed, and then inched her way down the stairs.

The moonlight spilled in from a crack in the curtains, giving Day just enough light to find the front door. She reached up for the handle, and cautiously, opened it.

Just barely, she could make out the voice; low and echoing. There were clear words to it.

Day stepped out onto the porch, straining to hear.

The voice was singing. Melodically, the words drifted from their unseen crooner and over the trees, almost hypnotizing her:

 _… I'll grant thee thy salvation_

 _No higher aspiration_

 _No meekness needed now_

 _Like children simple-hearted_

 _And joyful as ye started_

 _Let ye become and be taught how!_

 _And lastly grant thee leaving_

 _The world without much grieving_

 _Let easy be your death_

 _When earth you're taken into_

 _Eternal bliss awaits you_

 _Lift up your soul and claim your rest!_

 _So children, in mine keeping_

 _Prepare yourself for sleeping_

 _Cold is the evening breeze_

 _Come spare yourself from ire_

 _Let free you by the fire_

 _And grant your ailing spirit peace!_

The only thing that was able to break Day from her trance was the sudden, tight grip on her shoulder.

"What are you doing out here?!"

Day shrieked and attempted to free herself, but was spun around the face the speaker— the Woodsman.

"I was—" She timidly pointed out to the woods, "I heard… singing."

The hand on her shoulder was whipped off like it had been burned. The Woodsman stared at her with terror.

"… No." He shook his head, "No, you— it was the wind. It couldn't have been— been the—" With more insistence, he repeated the gesture, "It couldn't have been."

Day glanced back to the woods, but no further voice came to aid her claim.

"I… no, I know it was," she insisted, "There were words. It was a really deep voice, singing about… something about gaining peace through… rest? Sleeping?"

He backed up into the door frame, the color draining from his face rapidly.

"No, it— it couldn't be."

"What do you mean?"

The Woodsman peered out into the woods as if it was an approaching predator. His breathing was audible.

"… No." He jerked his head to the side, "No! It wasn't!"

He took a step inside the house, then glanced back at Day.

"I'll prove it!"

* * *

Day stuck as close to the Woodsman as he would allow, not wanting to get lost in the looming fog. The squarish lantern he held swung slightly as they walked, casting its yellow light on the overhead trees.

 _What's happening?_ she wondered, his obvious fear beginning to rub off on her, _What is he so scared of?_

 _... Who in the world goes out into the middle of the woods at night to sing?_

She knew the answer to that, at least in part: no one she cared to meet.

They only walked for a few minutes before the trees gave way to a clearing— an area of nothing more than bare earth.

With a flat stone.

And a hole.

And a blue jacket.

Day recognized it long before she'd rushed over and picked it up. Her hands shook violently as they clenched the fabric, knowing what this implied.

" _Oh no_."

Behind her, the Woodsman was stooped over the hole, the lantern jittering in his grasp.

"No no no _no no no no…"_ His stammering grew more frantic, _"No it can't be… he can't be…"_

Day could only turn to face him, tears clouding her wide eyes.

The Woodsman met her gaze, rooted in place by horror.

"He's back." It came out in a hoarse, defeated whisper, "The Beast."

She clutched the jacket to her chest, then whipped her head around to face the dense, winding forest.

"Sans!"

Before the echo of the word had faded, she was running.

 _"Sans!"_

"Wait! Child!"

The Woodsman struggled to his feet, but she'd already disappeared to the fog. His fear only grew, and he began to give chase… but halted, knowing it was of little use, now.

"You can't go out alone!" he called after her, "You aren't safe anymore! Come back! _Child!_ "

Day didn't hear him. And she didn't stop running.

* * *

 _ **"Der Mond ist Aufgegangen (The Moon has Risen)," Matthias Claudius (edits by AmberTheCritic)**_


	2. Let's Stick Together

When it finally became impossible to catch her breath, Day had to stop running. She hunched over herself, gulping in air that burned her throat horribly. She could feel her legs throbbing, along with the blood hammering in her ears.

After a minute, she realized that she'd apparently been running all night. The woods were no longer purely black and grey— earthy greens, browns, and yellows broke through, making the area seem much more alive. Sunlight that streamed in was a pale yellow, letting her know that it was possibly early morning at most. An occasional bird call or animal chitter sounded, unlike the unsettling silence she'd witnessed the night before.

But regardless of the change of scenery, Day was utterly aware of the fact that she was, still, completely alone.

With her breathing more or less returned to normal, Day straightened up.

Sans' jacket was still tight in her grasp, and Day once again hugged it to her chest, feeling the beginnings of tears stinging at her eyes.

 _Oh come on,_ she chastised, initially sharp, but her thoughts shifted to something more forgiving, _Come on. You're not going to accomplish anything by standing around crying._

She sniffled, rubbing her eyes to clear them.

 _They're out there somewhere. I just have to find them._

 _… Without running into whatever was out here singing. Who's probably the reason I found Sans' jacket without him in it._

 _Not helping._

Day slipped her arms into the sleeves of the jacket, having to roll them up multiple times in order to free her hands. The jacket itself almost passed her knees, making her feel like a little kid in an oversized coat with the added girth it presented.

And it smelled like ketchup. Chances are it hadn't been washed in quite a while.

She smiled sadly.

 _Well. I won't find anyone, staying put._

She walked leisurely through the unpaved woods, the bare earth more or less flat beneath her feet. Nothing in the area seemed to change much…

 _What was it the Woodsman was talking about, before I left?_ she wondered, _He said something like "The Beast has returned." And he looked really scared… so the Beast might've been the one singing. Why? And is he the one that… found Sans? And…_

 _But Sans shouldn't have had any trouble defending himself— he's super strong!_

 _What was that hole in the ground? The Woodsman was looking for something there…_

As much as she questioned, Day couldn't come up with anything resembling a solid explanation.

 _I really should just ask more questions instead of running off into the night._

She frowned, a little embarrassed.

 _Maybe not one of my better ideas._

A small creature, probably a chipmunk, skittered across the ground a few feet away, making her pause in surprise.

 _I didn't really get a chance to say goodbye to Anna. Or thank her for helping me._

 _… But. There's not a lot I can do about that... anymore._

Suddenly, Day perked up. She stood utterly still, listening closely.

…

 _"…ease, help!"_

She was certain of it, this time. A voice. Calling for help.

Day opened her mouth to call back, but quickly bit back the sound.

 _What if it's a trap?_

"Help!"

It was high-pitched—either they were desperate, or…

"Please! Help— help me!"

They were practically crying now.

 _I think it's a kid._

Day didn't care if it _was_ a trick; she hurried after the voice.

* * *

Anna sighed again, swinging her legs to kick against the wooden chair beneath her. She slumped, propped up against the desk with one hand; she was painfully aware of the fact that she'd taken up her father's bad habit of staring out the window and into the woods.

The sound of a hammer brought her out of her thoughts, frantically driving nails into wood.

Anna jumped off the chair and strolled out onto the porch, following the sound to one of the sides of the cabin.

The Woodsman was making thorough work of the windows, boarding them up with thick planks of wood he'd cut just that morning. He didn't even turn at Anna's approach, fully engrossed in his task.

Anna smirked, "Is it wise to be nailing them up on the outside? Can't they be torn away more easily, that way?"

"Protects the windows."

"I'm sure they're strong enough to withstand the occasional wayward bird—"

A board slipped loose from its nail, making him grunt in frustration.

"Anna, _please_ go back inside," he instructed, readjusting the board, "It's not safe, anymore."

She crossed her arms, giving him a clearly disbelieving look.

"Father. What makes you think the Beast is truly back?"

"The lantern is gone!" He spoke in between the blows of his hammer, "Dug up somehow! No doubt by someth—someone who—someone in partnership with—"

The board firmly in place, he stopped to fix Anna with a stern glare.

"The child heard—she said she heard some sort of singing, out in the woods. She was—was practically in a-a trance of sorts, as is."

"Why didn't you stop her from running off?" Anna questioned, "You said it yourself; it's dangerous to be out alone!"

The Woodsman averted his eyes when he spoke again.

"… She—she ran quite unexpectedly. I told her to—"

"We should be going after her!" she interrupted vehemently, "She's just a little kid!"

His hesitance disappeared, "No. Absolutely not—" He picked up another board, "Not with the Beast—the Beast being back— _no one_ is leaving the house."

"But—"

"It's too dangerous! _"_

"That's _why_ we need to find her!" Anna stamped her foot for emphasis, "She doesn't have anyone else! And if the Beast really is back… then we condemn her to death!"

His hammering halted.

"… She is not our responsibility."

The Woodsman turned to face her.

"I thought I lost you to the Beast once, Anna. Do not ask me to risk it happening, again."

She remained unfazed, "But we can't—"

" _No."_

Anna glared at him, appalled by what she was hearing.

"Mother would've wanted us to go."

The hammer slipped and missed the nail, resulting in a dull thunk. The sound echoed in the silence that followed.

He couldn't bring himself to look at her as he spoke, "… Your mother isn't here, anymore."

Anna's chest tightened, and she sucked in a breath.

She spun on her heels and stomped back to the house.

The Woodsman stared down at his shoes for a long while. Then, he resumed his work.

* * *

"Come on, Papyrus!"

Stella skipped ahead of him briskly, hair bouncing behind her like a trail. Papyrus' scarf did the same as he bounded after her.

"You are surprisingly fast for being so short!"

She grinned, turning around briefly to face him.

"Yep! I'm like a little mouse—I scurry!" Stella thought about the image, giggled, and continued to skip forward.

Papyrus kept up with her by speed-walking; she wasn't _quite_ as fast as him, but certainly fast by her own standards! Besides, the best way to become better friends with a new person was obviously to compliment them. Everyone knew that.

Up ahead, Stella had started to hum in time with her skips. Then, it turned into singing:

 _"Mm-mm, I wanna linger_

 _Mm-mm, a little longer_

 _Mm-mm, a little longer here with you._

 _Mm-mm, it's such a perfect night_

 _Mm-mm, it doesn't seem quite right_

 _Mm-mm, that it should be my last with you._

 _Mm-mm, and come September_

 _Mm-mm, I will remember_

 _Mm-mm, our grand adventures, friendships true._

 _Mm-mm, and as the years go by_

 _Mm-mm, I'll think of you and sigh_

 _Mm-mm, it's just goodnight and not goodbye."_

She returned to humming a little while longer, then slowed her pace to walk alongside Papyrus.

"That was a nice song!" he commented, "Where did you hear it?"

"I made it up!"

"Really?"

" _Wellll…."_ Her face scrunched up, " _Technically_ me and my sister made it up together. Our mom said that we had to start with our "collaboration skills" really early, so that we'd be even better at it when we're older. So we took a whole week to come up with the words and stuff, and then made up a two-person duet of it on the piano! And you know the craziest part?"

"No, what?"

"We did it all when we were only six!"

Papyrus gaped at her, "Wowie! Really?"

She stood with her hands on her hips, gleaming with pride.

"Yessiree! I'd say we're both musical geniuses. If we find a piano in the middle of the woods, I'll teach it to you! As weird as it would be to find a piano in the middle of nowhere."

"Oh it's not so weird—I've seen a piano in the middle of Waterfall, in a little hidden cave!"

"How'd it get there?"

"No one knows!"

"Huh." Stella returned to skipping, zig-zagging across the path, "So why are you here, anyway?"

"That's a great question!" Papyrus replied, "I have no clue!"

"Um… how?"

"Well it's a funny story!" He launched into an explanation, "See, for a long time, monsters were trapped underground by a magical barrier! The one day—nyeheh, one day, one Day came to free us! She fought a giant evil flower who wanted to take our souls, and somehow that broke the barrier, and we were all freed!"

Stella blinked back at him in a mixture of confusion and awe.

"… Wow." Her smile returned shortly after, "Okay, but how did you get _here_? Right here?" She held up her hands to further clarify, "The woods, I mean."

"Oh! That! That's the part I have no clue about! I was with my brother and Day, and then I wasn't!" He stroked his chin thoughtfully, "It sounds very odd when I hear myself say it."

"That's alright—I have no idea how I got here either!" She replied, "Maybe no one does, and everyone here is lost! So we all have something in common!"

Stella spotted the trunk of a fallen tree, and so she hurried over to it, climbing up with reckless abandon. Standing atop it, she was just over half Papyrus' height. It made her beam.

"Hey! Lift me up on your shoulders," she instructed, "So I can have a bird's eye view to look for our siblings!"

Only briefly surprised by the request, Papyrus complied nonetheless.

"You know," he commented, "It's very strange that you aren't scared of me!"

Stella set her hands atop his skull, leaning over to look at him.

"Why?"

"Well, most humans I've met on the surface seem _incredibly_ scared of monsters of any kind! No matter how nicely I try to greet them!"

Stella cocked her head, comically upside-down from Papyrus' perspective.

"You're not _that_ scary!" she assured, "Sure you're a skeleton, but you're not so bad!" She sat up again, as not to blind him with her hair, "Besides, I've heard stories about a whole lot of _scarier_ things out here in the woods."

This made Papyrus stop.

"Scarier things?" He peered up at her, "Like what?"

Stella changed her voice to something considerably spookier.

"Like… a pack of rabid man-eating wolves!" She waggled her fingers for maximum spookage, "And ghosts! Like I heard one about the ghost of a guy without a head who rides a horse and will steal your head by throwing a jack-o-lantern at it! And a ghost of a dead elephant with a teapot on its head!"

"An elephant? In the woods?"

"I know—spooky, right?"

Before he could answer, she piped up excitedly.

"Oh! Oh, and then there's this _reeeeally_ scary thing I've heard about called the Beast!"

"That already sounds much scarier than an elephant wearing a teapot! What is the Beast?"

"I've never seen him, but I've heard a _ton_ of stories. He's supposed to be some sort of super evil and scary monster that likes to sing creepy songs in the woods. And when he sings, it'll make people magically fall asleep! And then when they're asleep, he'll…"

Papyrus waited with bated breath.

"… Well? What happens next?"

"… Um. I don't actually _know_ that part."

He groaned, "You don't know the most important part?!"

"I have some guesses though!" she interjected readily, "My first guess is that he eats them! Since that's usually what big scary monsters do!"

"You must've met some very rude monsters, then!"

"Or maybe—ooh! Maybe the reason he's such a good singer is 'cuz he steals people's voices! Or maybe he turns them into the animals that live in the woods!"

She snapped her fingers, "Oh wait, I've got another idea! Maybe the reason there's so many trees out here is because when he puts you to sleep, you turn into a tree!"

Papyrus didn't admit it, but none of the possible scenarios she presented reassured him.

"I've… never heard of a monster who can do those sorts of things…" He recovered quickly, "But there's no need to worry! With my fantabulastical fighting abilities, I'll make sure no "Beast" tries to eat you! Or take your voice! Or turn you into a forest animal or tree!"

Stella giggled, giving his forehead a friendly bap.

"Thanks!" she said, "But I wouldn't mind being turned into a forest animal—hopefully it'd be a rabbit! Or a vampire bat! What would you wanna be?"

Papyrus pondered the question carefully.

"Hm… something that can fly!"

"A big thing or a little thing?"

"Big, of course!"

"A dragon!" she suggested instantly, "So you can breathe fire! Or how about a bear?"

"Bears can fly?"

"If they have wings they can!"

Papyrus sure was learning a lot about animals on the surface.

"Now let's keep going!" she urged, "Onward, noble steed!"

He laughed, then bounded ahead through the woods.

"What other things are big with wings?"

"Lots of things! Pegasus, ostriches—there's this really fun dinosaur called the quetzalcoatlus—"

"What's a dinosaur?"

Stella gasped in astonishment.

 _"Let. Me. Tell. You. About. DINOSAURS."_

* * *

"Help me! Please! Is anyone there?"

Day had more or less homed in on the direction of the voice, and hurried after it with due haste.

She hadn't called back, as much as she wanted to; part of her still believed it was some sort of trick.

Her shoe stuck briefly in the ground, and Day looked down, surprised.

The dirt was wet, mud coating both her sneakers. The woods seemed to have changed as well—the trees hung lower, the ground flatter. She saw a few puddles of stagnant water, which grew in size the closer to the voice she got.

The water smelled. Like mildew and mold. Slowly the tree bark gave way to dirty green moss, and the grass to lumpy mud and murky water.

 _Yuck._

Still, she walked. Her feet began to sink even deeper into the mud—Day pulled up her skirt a little and tied the loose material into a knot higher on her waist. She was determined not to let her clothes get any dirtier than they already were.

The trees cleared briefly, giving way to what could best be described as a swamp.

Though "lake of putrid mud" would've also been appropriate.

Across the clearing, Day spotted a figure moving in the mud. She began to approach—

Then halted, feeling like she'd been punched in the gut.

Before she even knew what she was doing, Day bolted back into the trees, concealing herself from view. Hidden, she succumbed to a sudden panic attack.

 _Asriel._

 _It's Asriel._

 _It's **Asriel.**_

 _This is another nightmare it's this nightmare again—no no I can't do this again I can't do this I can't—why is this happening to me?! No no no—_

"Wait—wait, who's there?"

Day flinched at the voice, clawing at her chest in a struggle to breathe—it was too fast, and she couldn't stay quiet. It felt like everything around her was closing in.

 _Stop stop stop—wake up, it's a nightmare—he's not here. It's not real—_

"Who-whoever you are, don't… don't come any closer! I—just go away!"

A thought broke through Day's panicking:

 _Was… that actually Asriel?_

As certain as she was initially, a twinge of doubt began to arise.

"… Hello?"

That voice…

… it was almost the same, but…

Having to hold herself upright, Day forced herself to slowly, timidly, peek around the tree.

 _… Yellow?_

The sweater wasn't green—it was yellow. Warm yellow.

 _But I thought…?_

 _Every time I've dreamed about him, he's looked the exact same._

She inched forward, out into the clearing.

He spotted her, and uttered a sound of terror.

"No—no no, go away!" he pleaded, "I don't—I don't actually need help!"

The closer she came, the more differences became apparent; there were a few tufts of yellow fur on the top of his head. And horns—the small beginnings of horns. His ears were a teensy bit longer, fur a tad scruffier. It wasn't anything drastic, but…

Day realized that he was stuck up to the waist in the mud, trapped. He struggled violently to free himself, growing more hysterical the closer she got.

"Don't—don't!" he cried, stammering through tears, "Don't hurt me!"

She stopped at the edge of the vast mud puddle, which had taken her all the way to the other edge of the clearing.

"I'm…" Her mouth had gone dry, making her voice come out cracked; she cleared her throat, "I'm not going to hurt you—I want to help."

Her words had no effect, except perhaps to increase his panic. He practically cowered at being addressed, unable to look her in the eyes.

"No no no—"

"Asriel, it's okay. I'm going to help you, this time."

The young goat monster stopped, his fear momentarily replaced by confusion.

"Who?"

"Asriel?"

"That's—that's not my name."

Day's heart skipped a beat, not expecting the reaction.

"… What?"

"My—my name isn't Asriel," he repeated with terrified insistence, "It's—it's Asgore."

 _WHAT._

Her head reeled in mental whiplash. She didn't know what to think anymore: was this really a dream? It had to be. How else would she have come across a monster that looked scarily similar to Asriel… with his father's name?

 _I think I've finally lost my mind._

"I'm not—I don't actually need help!" he repeated, then forced an unconvincing smile, "I-I just—I'm fine! You can—you can go away now!"

Day blinked, mind still swirling. Putting the somewhat terrifying impossibility of it aside for just a moment, she stared at… "Asgore," who looked like he'd sunken a little deeper in the short time since she'd approached.

"… Um. Are you… sure?"

"Yep!" he stammered.

"You're not…" The thought was so ridiculous that she almost didn't voice it, "… afraid of me, are you?"

His eyes widened like he'd been caught in the act, and his voice shook along with the rest of him.

"I'm—I'm not—n-no—"

Day took a step forward, just shy of the mud, "Here, let me help—"

"No!"

Asgore thrashed in the mud in an attempt to evade her; he successfully moved to the center of the mud puddle, but also succeeded in sinking even deeper. It now rose to the center of his chest.

He tried to frantically dig himself out, but it only sped up the process.

"No—" He was crying freely now, "No no no—!"

Day tried to approach, but was stopped again by the mud.

 _I can't reach him without going in,_ she realized, _But then I'll sink too! I can't do anything—_

"No—I don't— _I don't want to die—"_

The phrase sent a jolt through her.

"… You _won't."_

Day ran around the mud sink to the other side, just beneath a low-hanging tree. She quickly took off Sans' jacket, then grabbed the only tree branch she could reach.

Still listening to the sinking monster's cries, she hurried to tie a knot around the branch with one of the sleeves. She gave it a sharp tug to test its strength, then holding onto the free sleeve, waded into the mud.

Her shoes sunk much quicker than she thought possible, making each step exceedingly more difficult than the last. When her foot got stuck, she felt the first pangs of fear, but did her best to power through.

The mud rose past her knees, clung to her skirt, and began to lap up at her shirt.

When the jacket sleeve went taut, she knew she couldn't go any further. Day stretched out her hand, just barely within arm's reach of Asgore.

"Give me your hand!" she urged.

Still, he tried to evade her, despite the fact that he was now unable to move in any direction besides down.

"No—"

Now, only his shoulders and up were free; one of his arms was overtaken by mud.

"Just let me help you!" Day repeated frantically, "You're going to drown! I promise I'm not going to hurt you, okay?!"

For a moment, Asgore seemed to consider it—he eyed his worsening surroundings, then her extended hand.

Day felt herself beginning to slowly sink as well. They were running out of time.

"You can't get out by yourself, anymore," she told him firmly, doing her best to still sound kind, "And… it looks like you might not have anything else to lose, by trusting me." She again stretched out her hand, "I won't hurt you. I promise."

He tried to resist, but it was obvious that wasn't an option anymore.

Asgore tried to take her hand, but fell just short; he'd sunken too far.

Without thinking, Day released the jacket sleeve to stretch forward and seal the distance. She latched onto his hand, then struggled to regain the dropped jacket sleeve.

Her fingers brushed it once, twice, then barely took hold.

"Now, don't let go."

Day tried to bury her feet into the semi-solid mud, and pulled them both towards the edge of the mud. They hardly budged an inch.

Asgore started to freak out again, and before Day could tell him to calm down, it gave her an idea.

"Keep moving around," she encouraged, "It might—it'll make it easier to get free."

She kept pulling, her arms starting to hurt; it didn't look like she was actually making any progress.

Asgore noticed too, and his grip tightened on her hand.

"It'll be okay," she assured, "Don't worry."

"I don't think—"

He shrieked, mud passing his shoulders. Day was pulled in along with him.

Her grip on the jacket almost failed, but she clutched onto it like the lifeline it was, and strained with all her might to pull them forward.

Something came loose, and they lurched forward, nearly earning a mouthful of mud. Day looked down at herself—half free. Looking back, Asgore was in almost the same state.

A relieved, wavering giggle escaped her.

"See? We're okay."

More out of peer pressure, he matched the sound.

Day continued to pull with one hand, inching them to the shore. It was a tediously slow process, but finally, Day managed to crawl out on her hands and knees—she immediately turned back to grab Asgore with both hands, helping him out by the arm.

When Day stood, her muddy skirt slopped against her with a sickening sound. Everything from the chest down was utterly _coated_ in mud.

She shuddered in disgust, but made no attempt to wipe any of it off. There was no point, now.

"Um."

Day turned to face Asgore, who tried unsuccessfully to speak a few more times before finally uttering:

"I'm. Um. Sorry I didn't believe you. That you were—just trying to help."

Now that their lives weren't in danger, Day was reminded of the weirdness of the situation.

"Um…" She nodded, "It's okay. Um... Asgore."

Silence lingered for a while, making them both uncomfortable.

"… So. How did… I mean." He meshed his hands nervously, unable to meet her gaze, "Why are you out here by yourself?"

"I'm looking for my friends," she explained simply, "We all got lost."

He nodded, and she took her chance to ask, "What about you?"

Asgore froze, his eyes quickly darting to the ground.

"I'm. Um. Running away."

"From home?"

He shook his head, making his ears flop.

"No. From… from the… I-Ice Lady."

Day gave him an odd look, "The Ice Lady?"

"Mm-hm."

Silence returned.

Neither of them were very good at keeping a conversation going, it seemed. Day sighed, realizing with regret that she needed to be the talkative one.

"Who's the Ice Lady?"

Asgore started to shake again, "She's—she's this really scary magic lady with ice powers—and she wants—she's trying to find me so that she can freeze me in a block of ice, forever."

Day frowned, "Why does she want to do that?"

His hands wound tighter around each other, "I—I don't know."

The way he said it sounded… funny.

 _Like a lie._

She immediately chastised herself for the assumption—he was just scared. Rightfully so, considering he just evaded drowning in mud. And she _did_ just appear out of the woods without warning…

Day abandoned her earlier suspicion, and instead reached out to offer a friendly pat on the shoulder.

He flinched at the movement, so she retracted her hand.

"Sorry," she quickly said, "I'm not going to…" Day smiled gently, "I'm Day, by the way. I don't think I got to say it, earlier."

Meekly, he offered a wave, "Hi."

"… So, are you going somewhere specific, or…?"

Asgore shook his head.

"No. I'm just… kind of…"

"Wandering?"

"Yep!"

"By yourself?"

"… Yep."

Already, she knew what was next.

"You can come with me," she offered almost instantly, "If you want."

He perked up, unafraid for the first time since she'd met him.

"I can?"

Day nodded, "Mm-hm! I don't know how good I'd be at… scaring away an Ice Lady… but at least you won't have to hide from her alone?"

His smile was uneasy, but there nonetheless.

"… Okay."

They left the clearing to return to the woods, but only a few feet later, Day halted in her tracks.

"Oh! Wait!"

She ran back to the clearing, finding Sans' jacket right where she left it, tied to the low branch. The tugging managed to twist the jacket around enough to empty its pockets, and Day knelt down to collect the contents.

Three ketchup packets. A whoopee cushion. And some sort of wrapper.

She picked them all up, returning them to a pocket—except for the wrapper. Day unfolded it to see what it said, and read in her own handwriting:

 _"Look out for yourself, because someone really cares about you!"_

It was accompanied by an illustration of a hug.

 _… So. This is where he put it._

Day felt a mixture of happiness and sadness all at once. She smiled, just a little, and ignored the aching in her chest.

 _I'll find him._

 _... somehow._

She slipped on the jacket, and followed the lone set of muddy footprints back into the woods where Asgore was waiting.

"Where are we going?" he asked once she had caught up. He walked close to her, as if they could be separated at any given moment.

"I don't know," she admitted, "We'll find somewhere eventually."

"I hope so."

Day just offered a patient smile, grateful she wasn't alone.

* * *

The metal canteen clinked against the floor—Anna cringed at the sound, holding her breath to listen.

…

… nothing.

She exhaled slowly, then resumed her work.

Her pack was only half filled: canteen, dried meat, flint and a fire striker, a tiny knife that looked like it would break trying cutting butter.

Anna held a lantern on her arm, unlit, to avoid giving away her position. Of course, it made her job _that much_ more difficult.

She tied up the pack and hoisted it over her shoulder. Creeping to the door, she set her hand on the handle before regret finally caught up.

Her gaze drifted to the staircase, and for a moment, she reconsidered. The last time she'd snuck out like this…

But Anna huffed the thought away, having already made up her mind.

 _She needs help._

With painstaking care, she cracked open the door.

 _I'll be back in a few days._

It creaked softly, so Anna opened it just enough to slip out, and shut it with a satisfying click.

She turned to face the edge of the porch—and froze.

The Woodsman sat silently on a chair, his arms crossed. He'd been waiting for her.

Anna blinked, waiting for the inevitable scolding to come…

… only, it didn't.

He didn't move other than to sigh deeply, his chest rising and falling visibly; he didn't even look angry. Just… disappointed.

Which she realized made her feel even worse.

"I can explain."

 _"Anna."_

"We have to help her—"

"Anna."

"She's a little girl! She doesn't know the woods!"

He hunched over his knees a bit, visibly tired, but didn't argue immediately.

Anna seized her opportunity, "And she won't know anything about the Beast—who he is, how to stop him—"

"We don't… know that, either." It sounded like a surrender, and he held her gaze.

She was unaffected by his pessimism, "It doesn't matter. It's our responsibility!"

Remembering her earlier comments, Anna's tone softened a little when she added, "You would do it for me. She's someone else's child, but a child nonetheless—she deserves the same."

Silence fell between them for a long while. This time, Anna didn't interrupt it.

"... I. Will go and find her-"

"With me."

"Anna you can't-"

"I don't want to be left alone again, father."

It shocked and hurt the both of them, more than she intended it to. But it was genuine.

"... Please."

...

He sighed, defeated.

"Very well." It stood alone for a second, then received a nod of accompaniment, "Very well. We'll... we'll make ready to leave. In the morning."

Anna nodded, only for a smile to creep onto her face.

"Don't worry, father," she assured, "Only the weary, despondent and least need fear the wrath of that terrible Beast." Her smile held confidence, "I'll protect the both of us— the _three_ of us, once we find little Day, again."

The Woodsman peered into the dark woods, searching for what couldn't be found.

"... mm."

* * *

 ** _"Untitled song," Morgan Swartz_**


End file.
